


Mating Dance

by DoreyG



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Community: comment_fic, Dick Grayson is a Bird of Paradise, Father-Son Relationship, M/M, The Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3568745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knew this day would come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mating Dance

"Father, tell Grayson to stop walking around the manor in his underwear."

He knew this day would come.

Knew it, in the same kind of way that he always knew that he’d grow up to fight crime. _Knew_ it, in the same kind of way that he always knew that he’d have to give Damian the sex talk one of these days. It wasn’t a nice knowledge, was something closer to a burden at times, but at least he was prepared for it – at least he knew it was _coming_ , and could act accordingly.

“Damian,” or, at least, that was the theory. He takes a deep breath, spins in the console chair and rests his palms flat on his legs – Damian eyes him with open suspicion, already this is off to a wobbly start, “you turned eighteen last month.”

“…Yes,” Damian allows, and slowly backs a step away – keeps his eyes on him, as if he fears that he’s about to viciously strike at any moment, “although I’m not sure what relevancy that has to Grayson walking around the manor in his underwear. His absurdly tight, incredibly well-fitting, alarmingly distracting underwear.”

“Well-“

“It’s just _obscene_.”

“Yes,” he pauses again, takes a deep breath. Damian keeps staring at him like he’s gone mad, slowly takes another step back as if compensating for this, “and you’re aware, of course, that eighteen is the legal age of adulthood in Gotham. The age where the law considers you prepared, if you will, to take responsibility for your own life.”

“Yes,” Damian repeats slowly, shifts carefully on his feet. The expression of edginess on his face is one that he hasn’t worn for a while – it shocks him to realize that it looks different, somehow more imposing than amusing, now that his son is closer to twenty than he is ten, “but, father, Grayson turned eighteen several years ago and so-“

“Your own decisions, if you will,” he interrupts, as if urged on by a cattle prod. He realizes, a second too late, that their positions mirror those of the disastrous sex talk of four years ago – determines that it’s too late, would do more damage, to alter that now and plunges on as best he can, “especially regarding those of consent. Relationships, romance, _sex_ to be perfectly accurate.”

“Father…”

He waits, squirming inside, as his meaning finally gets through to Damian. As Damian’s face wrinkles, then smoothes, then takes on a somewhat dreamy light that he _never_ expected to see on his son and never really wanted to, “Damian.”

“Are you saying…” His son starts very slowly, pauses to glance upwards – to the mansion, he presumes, where Dick is apparently capering around in his underwear like a bird of paradise trying to win its mate, “that Grayson is acting in such a manner because I have finally reached the age of consent, when I am allowed to act on any desires I may or may not hold?”

“That is my hypothesis,” he offers calmly, and _very_ narrowly resists the urge to wince right out of his chair at Damian’s sudden chuckle, “yes. I would, however, recommend-“

“This changes everything,” it’s Damian’s turn to interrupt him, with a certain bright light in his eyes that makes the urge to wince even more difficult to resist. He turns slowly, an odd smirk upon his face. Bounces on his heels for a second… And then strides for the stairs, not sparing him a backwards glance as he trots away, “thank you, father, you have proved most illuminating yet again.”

“-Talking to him first,” he finishes weakly, and receives only the sound of Damian’s boots in answer. Slumps back in his chair, as he pictures the other possibilities – Damian just pouncing on Dick, Damian bearing Dick down to the floor, the two of them not talking at all, the two of them making… _Other_ noises instead.

That considered, it takes him only a moment to spring up and go for his suit. There has to be somebody he can put in jail tonight, after all. _Anything_ is better than being trapped down here.


End file.
